


Taste the Sugar in the Dark

by cellis3



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canada, Fluff, M/M, Scouting!AU, all my fics will be set in cold weather, as they probably will all be, bc the only time Canada is mentioned is if they get married there, harry and louis are the only real characters in this, i think, it's a thing, seriously self indulgent again, so here is some Canada for u, the others are just hanging out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:25:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellis3/pseuds/cellis3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just then, the door swings open to reveal a teenage boy wearing heart shaped glasses and a coonskin hat, which Harry hopes is fake because it has some sticky substance in the tail part that looks suspiciously like blood. Or barbeque sauce. </p><p>---</p><p>Or a Scouting AU where they kinda like each other and there's a party and some kissing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste the Sugar in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Almost all of the things in this story are based on truth bc I'm a scout. The scouting I do is very different than normal boy/girl scouts though so stuff will for sure be different.  
> It's set in the states, they're all like 16-18 & the drinking age in Montreal is 18.
> 
> Most of the stuff in this story is what I wish would happen at these things and that sometimes actually do.
> 
> Song title from "Sugar" by Kitten who are awesome and you should all go listen to.
> 
> I do not own One Direction or any of its members.

He’s watching Stan’s world class attempt at twerking when there’s a knock on the door.

 

“Malik, get the door!”

 

Louis’ currently the only one filming his friend bent over in the hallway wiggling his ass to _Gas Pedal_. He's sure Stan could be the next big vine sensation, they just have to get the right take.

 

“He’s taking a shit!”

 

“Shut the fuck up, Seamus!”

 

Louis hasn’t seen Zayn since dinner a few hours ago, so unless he was on the toilet this entire time, Louis’ bet is on wanking.

 

“Seam, can you get it then? Stan’s almost got this.” He deletes the previous vine without posting it. They don’t have wifi in their houses anyways, so they’ll have to wait until they get to the main building before they can get Stan’s twerking to go viral.

 

“I don’t know how much longer I can shake this, man. My butt’s gone numb.”

 

“Keep going, Miley doesn’t complain so neither can you.”

 

Groaning, Stan gets back to it; almost falling on his face from the way he’s picked himself up on the wall.

 

Liam comes out of his and Nate’s room with a towel wrapped around his head and a can of beer in his hand, “Can you turn that shit down? The tiles in the shower were vibrating.”

 

Louis purposefully ignores the boy, getting down on one knee to get a better angle of Stan’s butt, “Can’t hear you, Liam. Music must be too loud.”

 

He hears the boy mumble something like a “Yeah, you think”, but stops listening when Stan falls over and face plants onto the floor.

 

“Fuck!” is yelled from the boy’s mouth along with a stream of obscenities and grunts, the knocking on the door getting louder.

 

“Finny! Get the door, fuck!” Louis yells, typing up a caption on the last vine he’d recorded. This would have to be the one as Stan is still lying on his side clutching his face and in no shape to continue twerking.

 

“Please tell me you got a good one, dude. I don’t think I can walk. Or see.”

 

“Yeah, this one’ll have to do.” He still hears knocking at the door, so he slips his phone into his pocket before jumping over Stan and running down the hall. He sees Zayn come out of his bedroom eyes bloodshot and hair a complete mess.

 

“Were you hot boxing your bathroom? Without me?” the older boy asks incredulously. Taking a shit, his ass.

 

“You were busy vining, dude. We asked if you wanted to join, but you probably didn’t hear us over that shit music you’re playing.” Seamus calls out from his spot on the bed, looking just as out of it as Zayn. _No Beef_ is currently blasting out of the speakers (a personal favourite of Louis’), the lamp on the bedside table rattling every time the bass thumps.

 

“You gonna get the door or what?” Zayn snickers before closing the door in Louis’ face.

 

“Dick.”

 

\---

 

The competition goes like this:

 

Every city sends a team (or two, depending if you have enough people to make separate teams for boys and girls). Everyone meets at the scouting grounds in upstate New York where there are a bunch of houses with good enough heating and not too mouldy sheets and some important looking buildings where the actual competing takes place.

 

Every year, the teams get a theme to base their projects on. They have to prepare 3 things: a short skit, a display, and answers for possible questions they will be asked on the theme. They get a package of information to study from, but that’s it.

 

This year their counsellors took a more hands off approach, making the boys do all the work. Louis, being the oldest, took the initiative to be in charge and he thinks they did a damn good job if you ask him.

 

Ok, so they didn’t really place, but they had a fucking great time and met amazing people and that’s what matters right? Out of the 14 teams, Louis and the boys (Montreal, but no one called them that) placed 10th. The only people under them were the boys and girls from Newark, the Toronto girls, and Kerhonkson who no one really noticed half the time so there was no surprise when they came in last. For everything.

 

The annual jamboree is Louis’ favourite part of scouting. The summer camps are great and seeing Zayn and Liam every week is fun too, but the annual competition at the beginning of November against a bunch of Americans who take everything way to seriously is the highlight of his year.

 

Their skit this year wasn’t their best because their counsellors actually wanted them to have a chance at first place so they made them cut all the inappropriate jokes Louis came up with (which was really what made it unique). Their skit was appropriate, the display was kind of shitty since it was Stan’s responsibility so they had a few pieces of blue Styrofoam painted brown with popsicle sticks hot-glue gunned on it made into a house and some sticks put on the front to make it into a windmill. They stuck some facts on about grains and that was it. The questions actually went really well and they almost went onto the next round.

 

The placing has never really mattered to Louis (Zayn tries to hide it when they continue to fail to break the top ten; Liam’s pep talks are getting weaker each year); it’s always what happens after the competition ends.

 

It goes like this: they arrive at about 10pm on the Friday; wake up at 7am on Saturday and have the question period, the skits, and the display presentation; then it all ends with a seriously shitty teenage dance (which they always skip in favour of drinking in their house); and then mass the Sunday morning before driving the 6 hours back to Montreal.

 

The party night on Saturday and the celebration before they leave on the Sunday is what Louis really looks forward to. Him and the boys have been going to camps in the States and Canada since they were 12 and started their teenage years of scouting. Since the beginning they’ve had their friends in Newark, Toronto, and a couple in some other American cities that came and went. Especially the American ones, the Montreal boys only get to see once a year at the jamboree and have to make do with Facebook for the other 362 days of the year.

 

So when Saturday night comes – the competition part of the weekend over and done with – and there is a knock at their house door, Louis immediately knows who it is.

 

That doesn’t mean he rushes to answer it, though.

 

“Open the fucking door!”

 

“Perrie, they can’t hear you. Louis’ blasting his camp playlist again.” Niall leans against the banister and looks up at the window on the second floor where he sees Nate walking around with a straw hat on his head and Raybans on his face.

 

“Canadians, I swear to God.”

 

A quiet offended “Heyy” is heard from the back of the crowd, but is ignored as the blonde slams her fist repeatedly onto the wooden door, twisting the handle as if it would miraculously unlock from the force of her knocking. Michael sits down on the stairs and closes his eyes, the exhaustion from the past 24 hours rushing over him.

 

“Don’t you fall asleep on us, Clifford. The night is young still.” Ashton directs at the boy, slapping his cheeks face a couple of times to wake him up.

 

“Harry, tell your people to open the door.”

 

“It’s not like we speak a different language, Ashton. It’s still English.”

 

“Ah, but it’s Canadian English which is completely different than American English. You say “eh” like a thousand times more than we do.” Michael speaks up from where he’s still sitting with his eyes closed.

 

“We do not!”

 

“You kinda do, bro.” Niall shrugs from his spot near Perrie. They always like to pick on Harry for being from Toronto, and Eleanor for having a Canadian cousin.

 

“Hey Harry, say roof.” The group laughs at that, Ashton reaching over to give Eleanor a high five.

 

“Ha ha, you guys are so clever. Why don’t you go eat a cheeseburger or something?”

 

“That was shit, Haz.” Michael kicks his foot out to bump into Harry’s ankle. “Think of some new material and get back to us, ok?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Ugh!” Perrie kicks the door before falling next to Niall on the banister. “If he doesn’t open the fucking door I’m gonna break it down and send him the bill for the repairs, how does that sound?”

 

“Relax, Pez. We’ve got all night. If we get hungry we can eat Harry.”

 

“Heyy.” The youngest boy whines, kicking a rock in the direction of Niall only to miss and hit Michael in the knee resulting in a return kick to the shin. “Ow, bitch.”

 

“Shut up, Styles.”

 

Just then, the door swings open to reveal a teenage boy wearing heart shaped glasses and a coonskin hat, which Harry hopes is fake because it has some sticky substance in the tail part that looks suspiciously like blood. Or barbeque sauce.

 

“Perrie, my love. Always a pleasure.” Louis extends his arms out for a hug only to get a punch in the stomach from the girl before she brushes past him into the house.

 

“Okay,” he wheezes out, “I guess I deserved that.”

 

“Nah, Pez is just tired; we all are. But we’re here to fucking party, so lead the way, Tommo.” Niall pats the boy on the back as he straightens up from where he was bent over from the punch. Harry takes in the boys blue eyes and small lips and the tattoo of a rope around his wrist. Memories flood back through his head from Labour Day weekend two months before when he was stuck in the bar’s back room with one Louis Tomlinson who insisted they get drunk as there was nothing else to do. Louis ended up drinking himself unconscious while Harry stayed pleasantly sober, having thrown each shot over his shoulder and into a bucket. When they were finally found and let out, Harry felt kind of bad for letting the boy pass out on his watch, but Louis was two years older and should have known better. Probably. Louis is 18 to Harry’s 16 and already legally allowed to drink in Montreal, so he is undoubtedly used to drinking in excess.

 

He’s unsure if the boy remembers him until Harry walks through the door and receives and pat on the back from the older boy, turning around to see him smirking and waggling his eyebrows.

 

“Gonna have fun tonight, eh kid?”

 

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Harry smiles back confidently, sending Louis a wink to prove it, “Hell yeah, Tomlinson.”

 

\---

 

It’s two hours later and Louis is out on the grass behind the house in only his coonskin hat and a zebra onesie that is for sure not his. He spent the first hour mingling around and trying to be a good host, taking shots with every person he bumped into which looking back was a terrible idea as he can’t even count how many people are in his house right now. The second hour was more of a blur; he thinks he saw Zayn and Perrie making out in his bathroom, Seamus and Ashton playing beer pong against Eleanor and Niall, Liam talking to Harry and Michael about the competition, and Stan generally reeking havoc in every room he could get into.

 

No one else had come to their house aside from the boys and girls from Newark and Harry from Toronto – and Louis was hoping to keep it that way. The last thing he wants is for his team to get disqualified after all the hard work he’d put into preparing for the competition. Which is exactly why he decides he needs to sober up and keep everyone else in line.

 

And that’s why he is currently sitting in the wet grass outside in 3 degrees Celsius with a 2 litre bottle of water and no shoes on his feet. Genius.

 

After about 15 minutes, he hears the back door open, _Boy Oh Boy_ leaking out from upstairs. Louis hears lethargic and uneven footsteps making their way toward him before a body drops down on his right side. He recognizes it as Harry from Toronto who is looking more shitfaced than he’s ever seen him.

 

“Heyyy Louis,” the boy slurs, hands coming up to push his hair out of his face. He’s only got on a half-unbuttoned plaid shirt and some sweatpants tucked into hiking boots that are untied. Harry is the perfect picture of a hot mess: eyes wide and unfocused as they try to meet Louis’ in the dark. The only light outside is coming from the weak porch lamp, barely illuminating half of the grass. “It’s your party, why aren’t you in there? D’you need a drink?”

 

The older boy laughs, rubbing his hands up and down his arms to get his blood flowing through them again. He’s shivering like a madman now, but it’s helping him sober up so he can’t go back in right away. Also, Harry just got here and that’d be rude. Right.

 

“Since when do you drink yourself wasted?” he asks the younger boy who looks like he is about to tip over to the other side and roll down the hill. Louis grabs the sleeve of his flannel to help him stay upright, which only results in Harry falling into his lap, his head on Louis’ thighs and face looking up.

 

“Oh how the turntables.”

 

Louis narrows his eyes and scrunches up his eyebrows in confusion. This boy is way drunker than he’s allowed to be at 16 in America.

 

“Here sit up.” He tries to grab Harry’s shoulders and help him up, but the younger boy makes a noise of protest and drops his head back on Louis’ thighs, closing his eyes in comfort.

 

“I’m ok right here, Lewis. You’re very comfy.”

 

“Right.” Louis really has to get inside soon because his whole body is trembling like a leaf, his teeth chattering like mad. He gives Harry another few minutes to rest before he starts poking at him to get him to sit up. However, no matter how hard he pokes and shakes, the boy doesn’t get up.

 

“C’mon, man. It’s fucking minus 50. I’m gonna lose my nipples if we don’t go inside, like now.”

 

Harry shows no signs of life except for his snuffled breathing coming out of his half blocked nose. Sighing, Louis deliberates leaving him here like he had left Louis passed out in the back room of the bar. He’d gotten in a shit load of trouble when he woke up, having been accused of stealing the liquor. He quickly made up the excuse of thinking he was going to die and alcohol being the only way he would survive and he got out unscathed. Well, mostly unscathed. He’s pretty sure the judges put them in 10th place in the competition this year on purpose because one of them was also a bartender during Labour Day weekend and probably has a personal vendetta against Louis. Or something.

 

Deciding against leaving the boy to freeze to death, Louis grabs him from under his arms and gets up, dragging him toward the house. He has to drop Harry to get the door open and on the way in, Louis accidentally hits Harry’s head against the walls and staircase banister. It doesn’t wake him up so it’s probably not too painful.

 

When the get to the top of the stairs, Louis drops Harry onto the floor gently before making his way to his bedroom. The door is open with Michael and Eleanor very near sex on his bed.

 

“Woah! Ok, no. Out out out. Do this in your own house or city or anywhere but here.” Louis yells over the music, throwing the clothing on the floor at the two on the bed. He can tell they’re almost as drunk as Harry, smiling dopily before grabbing their clothes and bumping into the doorframe on their way out of the room.

 

Louis walks back to where he left Harry and drags him into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. It locks automatically so he doesn’t have to worry about any more drunkards barging in. He lays Harry down on the bed, taking his boots off to reveal cold sockless feet. Where are his socks? Where is his coat? Louis is pretty sure the boy had a sweater too when he first came in.

 

Shaking his head, Louis pulls the duvet out from under the unconscious body and throws it over him. It feels right to tuck Harry in and leave a light kiss on his forehead, so he does. Louis’ probably less sober than he thought he was.

 

He leaves Harry in his bed and ventures out into the battlefield of a hallway to try and find Liam. If there’s anyone who can break up a party, it’s Liam.

 

Unfortunately, when he does find Liam, he happens to be tucked in bed with the lights off. Typical. Checking his watch, Louis notices it’s nearing 1 am and they all have to be up at 7 to make it to breakfast before mass. He sees Perrie on Ashton’s back down the hall in Stan’s room, wearing a beanie and one of the boys’ scout uniform. Louis prays it’s not his or he will not hesitate to kick them all out into the cold and walk back to their house naked.

 

He decides on waiting it out and heads back to his room where Harry is still in the same position except now with his eyes peering open. Louis closes the door and settles down gently on the edge of the bed, meeting the younger boy’s eyes carefully.

 

“Y’alright, Harry? You had a bit too much to drink I think.”

 

The boy closes his eyes and smirks, whispering seemingly to himself, “Oh how the turntables.”

 

“Yeah, you’ve said that already…” Louis watches as the smirk slowly goes slack, Harry’s face smoothing out as he falls back asleep. Once Louis is sure that he isn’t going to wake up again (he does this by snapping directly in Harry’s ear and possibly licking his nose a bit), he goes back out into the hallway and starts the long job of kicking people out.

 

He starts with Michael and Eleanor who are about to fall down the stairs where they’re trying to continue their make out session. Once they’re dressed and outside, he heads back upstairs to get Ashton and Perrie to follow suite, but not before checking that the shirt is Zayn’s and letting them take it. That’ll serve him right for hot boxing the bathroom without Louis.

 

After they're all gone, Louis finds Niall and Seamus spooning in one of the beds, Nate sitting in the corner of the room reading a book. Now that he thinks about it, Louis hasn’t seen Nate since the competition ended. He seems completely at peace just sitting there, reading in a warzone, so Louis leaves him be. Niall can find his way back to his house in the morning; he looks too peaceful to wake up and kick out like Louis did with the others.

 

He walks back down the hall, turning off the music on his way. He shuts off the lights and walks back into his bedroom ready to fall asleep in Stan’s bed as Harry is in his. But as soon as he closes the door and turns on the light, he sees Stan’s figure taking up all the space on his own bed, laid out like a starfish. Nice.

 

Not wanting to disturb his friend’s sleep, which could result in Louis losing a testicle, he pushes Harry over slightly to make room for him to squeeze onto the mattress and under the duvet. The heaters are on max power, but they’re probably from the 90’s so the room is barely warmer than outside. Louis scoots as close as he can to Harry without touching him, hoping that he can get some body heat from the gangly boy. After 20 minutes of shaking and teeth chattering, he decides that for his own survival, him and Harry need to get closer and so Louis lifts the younger boy’s arm and scoots underneath. He gets as close as he can to the boy’s body, tucking his head against his chest, his arms squeezed between them.

 

Before sleep envelopes him, Louis feels Harry’s body turn to press against his, the boy's arms curling around the older boy's body. Within seconds, Louis is asleep, feeling warmer than any heater could make him.

 

\---

 

The only thing worse than waking up alone is waking up shivering with no blankets. The room feels like a freezer even though Louis remembered to turn the heating on the night before.

 

Looking around the bed for the blankets, he sees them wrapped in a bundle next to him. But when he tugs on them, he’s met with resistance. Louis pulls harder, using both arms this time and out of the nest of blankets comes a low groan. What.

 

Getting up on his knees, Louis leans over the lump to try and see who is inside it. He shakes the bundle roughly by where he guesses the person’s shoulder is to try and wake them up, but is once again met with a groan. This time a hand peeks out from between the blankets and hits Louis’. Exasperated, the older boy tugs down the blankets to reveal a sniffy Harry Styles looking worse off than Louis feels.

 

“Get off. I’m trying to sleep,” the boy rumbles out, reaching down the grab the blankets back. Louis just rips them off the bed and crosses his arms in front of his zebra clad chest.

 

“Yeah, and I couldn’t get any sleep because I was fucking freezing to death1 wasn’t I? Fucking blanket hogger.”

 

Getting up off the bed, Louis makes his way to the bathroom and closes the door. He’s got to wake up all the other boys soon and get them to breakfast before mass. Harry is not his responsibility, so when Louis gets out of the shower and the boy is still lying on his bed in the fetal position with his face pressed into a pillow, he goes on with his routine as per usual.

 

Once he’s dressed in his uniform and ready to get the other boys, he looks back to wear Harry is softly snoring on the mattress. He can’t just leave him hear, can he? None of the other Toronto boys came by the house yesterday and they don’t seem to be looking very hard for Harry now. As the responsible adult of the house, it is Louis’ job to make sure Harry gets back to his own. Or something.

 

He walks around to the other side of the bed and bends down to level his face with Harry’s, which is smushed into the pillow. Louis shakes his shoulder – lightly this time – to try and wake him up gently.

 

“Harry,” he murmurs softly. “Wake up, man, this isn’t your bed.”

 

The boy groans again, turning into himself even more, hiding his face in his chest.

 

Sighing, Louis gives up on the gentle approach and stands up.

 

“Harry, if you don’t get off my bed in ten seconds I’m going to pour this water over your head.”

 

The boy lets out a quiet snore in response.

 

“I’m serious dude, seven seconds.”

 

Silence.

 

“Fuck.” Louis really doesn’t want to do this, but the kid’s gotta go and it’s not like anyone is going to be sleeping in this bed tonight as they’re all leaving after the closing ceremonies.

 

He picks up the water bottle on the bedside table and unscrews the cap. He gives Harry another few seconds to wake up (he doesn’t) before turning over the bottle and letting the water pour out onto the boy.

 

It takes two whole heartbeats before Harry is up and yelling.

 

“What the fuck, dude?? I was sleeping!” He’s on the other side of the room, shaking his wet curls out of his face and picking at his now soaked shirt.

 

“Yeah, on my bed hogging my sheets all night.” Louis throws the now empty bottle in the trash before making his way to the door. “You can let yourself out, I hope. Breakfast is in 10.” With that, Louis is out of the room, heading down the hall to knock on the other boys’ doors. He hears his own door shut and looks back down the hallway to where Harry is standing looking like a drowned pup.

 

“You gonna make it back to your house ok?”

 

The younger boy doesn’t look up when he says, “Like you even care,” before walking down the stairs and away from Louis. Sighing, the older boy gets back to the task at hand and tries to forget that both sides of the bed were warm when he woke up and that there was someone there when he got out of the shower.

 

\--- 

 

After breakfast, the teams make their way down to where the chapel is on the other side of the grounds. Every one of the Montreal boys along with half of the Newark team is sporting a hangover, the loud bustle of the other teams not helping at all. Zayn manages to shut up a group of obnoxiously loud girls with quite a menacing stare. But seriously, if looks could kill.

 

Mass goes by slowly, as always, and Louis is about to doze off when he feels a poke on his shoulder. Turning around, he sees Niall pointing toward where the flag bearers stand lining the centre aisle of the chapel. Louis understands what he means and makes his way over to take his turn holding his team’s flag. He switches with Nate, who looks like he’s about to fall asleep too, and sends him back to where the rest of the Montreal boys are sitting.

 

Once he’s standing in position, Louis notices he’s standing right behind none other than Harry Styles. It’d be rude to not say something, but it’d also be rude to say something because they’re in mass and they’re the flag bearers and should stand with honour and nobility or something. Louis forgets this as soon as the priest starts droning on about forgiveness and peace, reaching his hand out and poking Harry’s shoulder. The boy turns around with a question on his face, which almost immediately turns hard when he sees Louis. Harry turns back to face the front and even shuffles forward a couple of inches. Seriously?

 

Louis sighs internally and pokes the boy’s shoulder again. He doesn’t expect Harry to turn back around (he doesn’t), so he leans forward just enough to not look suspicious, but close enough for Harry to hear him.

 

“I’m sorry about making you wet this morning.”

 

A choking sound gets caught in Harry’s throat as Louis leans back innocently. It takes Harry a few seconds to compose himself and he still doesn’t turn around. Louis shuffles forward and brings his head forward again so his whispers will be heard.

 

“I am actually sorry, though. It was uncalled for and really shitty.” He doesn’t really know why he’s so adamant on Harry forgiving him or even acknowledging his presence, but right now that’s all he can think of.

 

When Harry still shows no sign of listening, Louis pulls out the big guns.

 

“Look, I’ll make it up to you, ok? Whatever you want.” He waits a few seconds before shuffling back to his place. The head counsellor orders them to lift the flags in salute and they do, Louis trying hard to keep his eyes on the back of Harry’s head and not at how his arms are straining to hold up the wooden mast.

 

Mass has never felt so long.

 

\--- 

 

“I’m serious, Calum. My mum wants to be out of here as soon as possible so we can have a few hours to shop at Crossgates.” The trip to the mall on the way home from the competition has been a tradition for the Toronto boys for as long as Harry can remember and he is not going to miss it because Calum is clipping his toenails.

 

“Relax, Styles. You’ll have your time to perv around Victoria’s Secret, don’t worry.”

 

“I wasn't ingperv around Victoria’s Secret, you ass. I was only there last time because Gemma needed a new bra.”

 

“Uh huh.” Calum replies disbelievingly.

 

Sighing, Harry grabs his bags and leaves the room. He’s been ready since he got back from the Montreal house that morning even though the clothes he had on were a bit damp. Prick. It’s not like he’d been super chivalrous to Louis the last time he'd seen him, but that doesn’t equal a rude wake up like the one he’d received. He doesn’t even remember getting into bed with Louis the night before and hopes all he did was hog the blankets and not something embarrassing or gross. He was still a virgin (hopefully) and didn’t much want to lose it to Louis of all people. He was practically a frat boy, staying in youth scouts an extra year to be able to compete in one last competition. He was dirty and wild and crazy hot and exactly what Harry’s parents told him to stay away from. Gemma keeps saying the fist guy Harry kisses is going to be the opposite of what everyone expects, that that is going to be how he rebels against authority or whatever.

 

It’s not like he’d _mind_ if his first kiss or fuck was Louis Tomlinson, but he’d like to remember it at least. He’s so anxious to kiss someone that he starts thinking about how to find Louis now and kiss him. He can still feel the boy’s breathe on the back of his neck during mass when he whispered apologies and promises into his ear.

 

_“I’ll make it up to you, ok? Whatever you want.”_

 

Whatever he wants, huh? Well what he wants right now is for Louis to kiss him and kiss him hard.

 

\---

 

Louis makes his way to the main parking lot from the Newark house where he's just said his goodbyes. Eleanor and Niall are coming to Montreal in a couple weeks to tour a few universities, but the rest of them he won’t see for a couple of months – and that’s if he’s lucky. Long distance friendships suck, especially when they’re with people you love like family. Perrie had clung to him like a koala when he said he had to leave, keeping him there ten minutes longer than he had planned.

 

There’s no real rush to get home, but he wants to avoid the heavy traffic at the border so the earlier they leave the better. He’s taking Stan and Liam in his car as they live the closest to his place, Zayn taking Nate and Seamus in his mom’s car.

 

He passes by the Toronto house on his way down and sees a recycling bin overflowing with badly hidden beer cans and red solo cups. Seems like they had a wild night as well. Louis wonders why Harry had tagged along with his cousin and her friends instead of going to his own house’s party.

 

Just as Louis' thinking about him, Harry appears at the front of the house carrying his bags down to a van and dumping them in the trunk. Louis walks over to where the boy is brushing dirt off his jeans and leans on the side of the van.

 

“They making you do all the heavy lifting, Curly?”

 

Harry’s eyes meet Louis’ as a shy smile slides across the younger boy’s face.

 

“I can manage.” He somehow manages to trip over his own feet while standing still, right arm coming out to catch the edge of the van. Louis contains his snort, but lets himself grin at the boy before him. There’s something endearing about the clumsy yet attractive boy, like Louis doesn’t know whether he wants to ruin or take care of him. Probably both.

 

Harry clears his throat, standing up straight to his full height, which is a couple inches taller than Louis. Damn.

 

“I’ve thought of what you can do to make me forgive you,” he declares bravely. Smirking, Louis plays along.

 

“And what can I ever do to make you forgive me, Mr. Styles?” Louis swears it’s harder for Harry to swallow after that, but tries to keep his eyes away from the boy’s throat where his Adam’s apple is really quite sinful.

 

Harry crooks his finger at Louis before turning and walking around to the side of the Toronto house. Louis follows curiously, wondering what Harry wants him to do; something humiliating probably, as pay back for that morning. But if Harry asked him to do it, Louis thinks begrudgingly that he would most likely agree to it.

 

Harry stops at the side of the house and turns back to where Louis is standing unsurely. The older boy opts for leaning with his back to the wood lining the walls of the house, staring patiently at Harry who seems to be having a mental war with himself. His eyebrows are furrowed down low over his eyes, teeth gnawing away at his bottom lip.

 

He finally turns to face Louis, coming to stand a few feet away. He still looks incredibly nervous, but like he’s trying very hard not to show it.

 

“I need you to do me a favour.”

 

Louis smiles softly, hoping to ease the nerves of the boy before him. “Yeah, sure. What do you need?”

 

Swallowing thickly again, Harry clasps his hands in front of him, toes turned into each other. If he didn’t already know a bit about the boy, Louis would think he was fooling around, imitating a little girl. Louis now knows that it's just Harry.

 

“The other guys from Toronto are always making fun of me because I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

 

Louis furrows his brow in disagreement, especially when he sees Harry hang his head as if in shame.

 

“I just want them to stop and I don’t know how other than to actually kiss someone and for them to hear about it. I’d just need you to go around saying that you kissed me and it was great and stuff and for them to hear it and believe it.”

 

Louis is stood in shock, eyes wide as he takes in the boy shuffling on the leaves in front of him. This was definitely not the favour he was expecting. He was thinking more along the lines of “Can you sneak me some weed?” or even “I really need some fashion advice.” Yes Louis thought of everything because yes people would for sure come to him for those favours. 

 

But going around telling everyone how great of a kisser Harry Styles is was never on the list. Not that he minds – hell, he’ll shout it loud and proud, the boy’s a cutie – but he didn’t think Harry’d need it. Never kissed anyone? Ever?

 

“You’ve never kissed anyone before?” he asks maybe too incredulously. Harry’s eyes drop to his shoes that are digging into the dirt beneath the leaves.

 

“The opportunity’s just never come up. It’s not like I don’t want it or anything, because I really do, like it’s just that no one’s ever wanted to kiss me.”

 

“Don’t say that, Harry. I’m like 99% sure that’s not true.”

 

The younger boy scoffs before looking back up at Louis face with a small smile on his lips.

 

“Are you going to do it or not?”

 

Louis immediately thinks “yes.” Of course he’ll do it. It’s a known fact that Louis is a whipped sucker for those he’s infatuated with. And he may just be a tiny little bit infatuated with a curly haired bumbling idiot.

 

“I’m going to need some material if I’m going to be praising your kissing skills though.”

 

Harry’s façade crumbles under the question, smile dropping and brows furrowing.

 

“Material?” he asks confusedly, “What do you mean?”

 

Louis takes the change in stride, licking his lips before stepping away from the wall.

 

“You see, I can’t just start saying how good of a kisser you are when I don’t even know how you kiss. What if someone can tell I’m lying when I say you taste like cherry chapstick when you really wear vanilla?”

 

Harry’s eyes have gone wider than saucers as Louis takes another step closer toward him. All the confidence gone, the boy has never looked more his age except for maybe when he first introduced himself to Louis at the Labour Day party and couldn’t formulate a sentence without at least stuttering once. It was rather adorable, really, and why Louis could never actually be mad at him for leaving him passed out behind the bar.

 

“I don’t get what you’re saying.” Harry asks shakily, teeth back to biting his lower lip.

 

Louis takes one last step forward so the toes of their shoes are touching and he can feel Harry’s nervous breaths hitting his face.

 

“I’m saying I should actually kiss you and we can kill two birds with one stone. The boys won’t make fun of you anymore and you’ll also get your first kiss. What do you say?” As confident as Louis sounds, his insides are raging in fear. What if Harry says no? What if he doesn’t actually want to kiss Louis and just needs him to fake it for him? What if he doesn’t want Louis to be his first? What if he laughs in his face?

 

His worries are swept away when Harry’s eyes drop to Louis’ lips and his tongue comes out to lick his own. Like a good teenager, the boy is unable to hide his hunger.

 

Louis doesn’t need an answer before he’s leaning in slowly, still half afraid of scaring Harry away.

  
“Just follow my lead.” Louis whispers before leaning in the final inch and pressing his lips softly to Harry’s slightly wet ones. It’s for sure not a kiss to be remembered for ages, but it’s Harry and it’s Louis and they’re standing behind an old log cabin in a dying forest in upstate New York wrapped in layers to keep out the cold after a weekend of stress and fun. So what if Harry sticks his tongue out a little too eagerly and ends up licking Louis’ chin? So what if Louis stumbles backward slightly and they end up crashing into the side of the cabin? So what if they start laughing so hard that they can’t keep kissing because their teeth keep getting in the way?

 

It’s Harry and it’s Louis and their blood is blushing, their eyes are sparkling, their skin humming with newfound energy and excitement.

 

\---

 

“You gonna take me out in a couple of weeks, then?”

 

They’re sitting in the trunk of the Toronto van, feet dangling out the back as the boys from both Canadian teams rush around shouting goodbyes and remembering things they left in their rooms.

 

After their shit attempt at kissing, they decided to try again some other time and came out to help pack up their boys. Neither wanted to leave just yet, so now they just sit in silence and wait for one of them to be called away.

 

“What’s in a couple of weeks?

 

“University tours! Did you forget you’re showing El and Niall around?” Harry turns to look at Louis’ profile, taking in the slope of his nose and long eyelashes. He really wants to keep kissing him, but he needs a lot of practice and they really don’t have time for that now. Hopefully when he comes up to Montreal in 2 weeks they’ll have ample time to perfect his technique and can spend the rest of the weekend making out. A lot.

 

“Yeah, and what, you’re coming too?” Louis smiles at this, turning to meet Harry’s roaming eyes. He can’t get over the strange mix that makes up who Harry is. He’s charming and cheeky and makes Louis feel nervous that he’ll embarrass himself if he says something wrong, but on the other hand he’s clumsy and so so open like he doesn’t know how to interact with people yet and will say and do things by instinct.

 

“Would you mind if I did?”

 

“Are you kidding? Of course I don’t mind. I’ll take you out properly. We’ll have some fine Quebec cuisine, even.”

 

Harry lets out a laugh, shaking his head slowly, “Poutine?”

 

Louis nods excitedly, smiling widely. They sit there smiling at each other until Louis realizes that he is in fact the one driving Liam and Stan home and that they’re probably waiting for him by his car.

 

Reluctantly, he gets out of the trunk and turns back to where Harry is still sitting, but with a now fading smile. Their time is up and they’ve got to go.

 

“I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, right?”

 

Harry nods, scooting closer to the edge of the trunk so he can wrap his legs around Louis’. Smiling again, the older boy leans down to capture Harry’s lips once more. This kiss is less clumsy and wet, just the press of lips on lips, Harry’s hands coming up to grip the front of Louis’ shirt so that when he tries to pull away, Harry doesn’t let him.

 

"No." he breathes.

 

“I’ve gotta go, kid. Long road home.” Louis says, but makes no move to pull away. He looks down at Harry’s smiling mouth, young eyes, pink cheeks and can see it in his mind clear as day. He can see that face filling in the nooks and crannies of his future, the empty spots saved for countless other people. Louis can see those spots being taken up by Harry and all of his charming clumsiness.

 

Before walking away, Louis leans down and kisses him again, hard like they know it’s the last one for weeks. Harry tightens his fingers in the boy’s shirt before slowly loosening his grip as they pull away.

 

With their foreheads pressed together, breaths intermingling between their mouths, Harry smirks cheekily, eyes opening to take in Louis’ parted lips.

 

“So what chapstick do I wear? Cherry or Vanilla?”

 

Smiling widely, Louis leans away and steps back from the van, eyes roaming over Harry’s body folded up in the small space.

 

“Oh, babe. You are so far from vanilla.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated :) let me know what you think!


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